Bulletproof
by Sweet-baby93
Summary: Fitz wasn't the one who was shot. Olivia was. 2x07; Birthday Gala (Dribble Fic) Chapter One Rewritten - Third POV
1. Happy Birthday Mr President

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR. PRESIDENT**

**Disclaimer: Characters belong to Shonda Rhimes. I just make them dance. Also, many thanks to my beloved Beta – twerri02. She helped with literally everything.**

"Thank you for doing this" Edison murmured, breaking the comfortable silence when reaching over to clasp Olivia's hand.

She slowly turned to him and forced a smile that would mask her apprehensiveness. "No problem" she replied convincingly. Edison was overwhelmed with his excitement to victoriously show his new and appropriately elite girlfriend to the public, that he failed to notice how Olivia's eyes nervously darted to the window while her bottom lip was now trapped between her teeth.

Before any more words could be shared, the car came to a complete stop. Olivia's nerves were now haywire and she filed to find the peace in Edison's assuring smile as he offers his hand. Nonetheless, she battled with her worries and doubts, knowing that it was bound to happen sometime.

Though, she still couldn't help but wonder whether accepting Edison to the public, on her…Fitz's birthday was the right thing. It seemed unfair to him, almost like she was flaunting him in his face. She took a deep breath and reprimanded herself because she already made a choice. It was too late. There was no going back.

Only, the decisive thoughts trembled once they stepped out of the car and were soon assaulted with surrounding reporters and bright flashes. A constant click and flickering of bright lights followed them but Olivia as always, handled it with grace.

With her head slightly bowed, she allowed them to capture the moment of her white dress gently billowing in the night's breeze. A picture of elegance and class.

Years of being in front of the public eye made it easy to simply smile and remain composed. When they soon realised that the elusive and close 'friend' to the President wouldn't say anything, they began to flock towards Edison. He on the other hand was more than happy to spin his tale and smirked proudly when asked about his relationship to Olivia. Just to rile them up further, he wound a possessive arm around her and kissed her forehead, giving a new headline to several magazines. Just what she needed.

Olivia fight against her fury of being used as a pawn but soon found herself distracted with the sight streaming fairy lights and several American flags decorating their blue carpeted path towards the mansion. Intercepting their path was an enormous white marble fountain with a classic structure.

By the iron gates, more than one hundred guards were trying to keep the crowd that had formed at ease. Olivia's eyes zoned onto the banners being held up by the several groups within the restless crowd. The excitement was tangible in the humming atmosphere, leaving everyone animated. She read over the thick red and blue glittered letters; HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR PRESIDENT. WE LOVE YOU. A small chuckle left her as she imagined Fitz' reaction to the banner. He would joke about how much of a rock star he was but she knew how touched he would be.

They adored their president and why wouldn't they? Fitz was…one of a kind, truly.

It was all very grand and slightly overwhelming but she felt happy for Fitz. He deserved this much, if not more.

"Olivia!"

At the sound of her name being called, she spun around and took the opportunity to break from Edison when approaching Serzh Sargsyan, President of Armenia. "Looking beautiful as always" he complimented and brought her hand up to his lips.

More pictures were taken but Olivia had already accustomed to them. She fixated on her conversation as she teased the man that was 20 years older. "Your wife might get jealous" she warned jokingly and they both chucked at the thought. Just then, Rita made herself known and Olivia grinned mischievously. "Speaking of the devil…" she quipped, with a playful grin.

Rita arched a brow and her eyes darted between the pair. "Good things I hope" she answered.

"Always" Olivia promised with a glint in her eye when accepting the outstretched hands before having two kisses hastily placed on each cheek.

Only, that wasn't enough for Rita as she enveloped her saviour into a warm embrace. "Olivia, always wonderful to see you" she whispered brokenly and her arms tightened around her friend. Rita was still thankful for how Olivia and her colleagues had helped to save her six year old granddaughter from the militia against her husband. "I still don't know how else I can thank you…" she shivered and Olivia patted her back to comfort her.

"I'm just glad that Mariam is safe" she replied and when they broke apart, Olivia noticed the tears brimming in her eyes so she handed her a tissue from her gold clutch, courtesy of Abby.

"I can always count on you" she laughed half-heartedly and gently dabbed at her eyes, careful not to ruin her mascara when the night was yet to begin. "Hav-"

Whatever Rita was going to ask was left unanswered as Olivia's train of thought was broken with the acknowledgement of the guest of honour.

"Mr President"

Hearing the admiration in the tone, Olivia's nerves were fired up again and she forced herself to wait until Rita inclined herself towards her husband before following. A taut smile stretching across her lips as she watched Rita and her husband welcome Mellie. "Madame First Lady"

Fitz stood idly by, offering a few words of getting while his darkened gaze would frequently flicker towards the person that had driven him to the brink of insanity. Seeing her dressed so beautifully in the white and gold dress didn't make anything better. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he stuffed his fists into his pockets, hoping that he could retain control over his body.

It had been three weeks since they'd seen each other and two weeks, four days since they last spoke. Neither of them had mentally prepared themselves for the reunion as both felt lost but equally appeased at the same time.

Olivia noticed his inner turmoil and took advantage of Mellie's rambling to approach him. With each step taken, their gazes remained lock and as she was drawn in towards him, the humming electricity crackling through the chill intensified. "Happy Birthday" she called and released a shaky breath, thankful to have been able to collect herself. It was difficult for her to keep herself together when seeing him in the black form fitting tux.

The only thing that stopped her was the sight of his graven eyes and grim smile. He nodded tersely in gratitude and smiled, but it didn't his eyes. "Thank you for coming" he rasped forcibly as the words remained heavy on his tongue.

All cameras were solely focused on the birthday boy which meant that they had to continue battling with their instincts.

She knew that their relationship in the media's eye would expect a more cordial greeting and as much as she warned herself not to, she couldn't help but approach him for a hug. Nothing more. It would be for five seconds and they would both be able to handle it. Just a hug. "It was m-"

Olivia's words and movements were interrupted when a loud bang cracked through a chilling silence. This was rivalled with a flurry of screams as everyone began to flee. Fitz uickly approached Olivia wanting to take her hand and run away with her. "Olivia!" he exclaimed hysterically over the erupted shouting.

Another shot was fired and this time, Fitz's world blurred when Olivia gasped and fell into his arms. He caught her with great haste and frowned, only understanding when his hand cradled her, only to withdraw with the dampness on his arm. He pulled back and gasped at the sight of blood…her blood…

His knees buckled but he continued to hold her close, only everything began to race before him. Before he could help it, large hands were ignoring his protests and pulling him away. He tried to push against them but their force strengthened and he looked through to watch as the love of his life was left on the cold ground. "Olivia" he cried out helplessly but she couldn't hear him.

The darkness had already stolen her.

**A/N: Do you want more…?**


	2. It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn

**IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST…**

**A/N: Many requested a third person POV. In my defence, never tried it before but you always have a first so here goes… (Also rewrote the first chapter in third person)**

**Song for this story which is perfect; Beyonce – Haunted. How amazing is the new album?**

**It's where we go  
It's where we'll be  
I know if I'm on to you, I'm on to you  
On to you, you must be on to me**

My haunted lungs  
Ghost in the sheets  
I know if I'm haunting you  
You must be haunting me

"Mr. President, if I have to, I will sedate you"

As soon as Fitz's back hit the leather seats, he was already trying to push himself off. Like him, his guards were persistence and wouldn't back down. If he hit one, another one would replace him. Soon enough, he learnt that there was no competition against ten men. They finally managed to push him into the back and lock the door, leaving Fitz deliberating over how he could break through the glass.

There was a reason he was the leader of the free world. Did being the President of the United States not give him the power to do as he pleased? He was the one who gave the orders so why wouldn't they listen to him?

"I have to go to her" he muttered subconsciously and then repeated it louder to whoever was behind the tinted partition. When no reply was given, he turned back to the door beside him and before he could plan on how to break the glass, the door was flung open, revealing Tom.

"Sir, you have to stay inside" Tom advised but Fitz didn't care for anyone's words. They would nothing for him or Olivia which was why he was already trying to push past his bodyguard.

Tom was five years younger but his age didn't stop him from seeing how torn the President was. He also knew that his relationship with Miss Pope wasn't just a simple fling. What they had was much more than he shared with Mellie. This was visible to anyone with eyes as it was to Tom who watched the country's leader lose himself. He was no longer the President because at that second, he was simply a man who merely minutes ago, had been holding the lifeless body of the love of his life.

"I have to go to her" Fitz repeated but Tom shoved him back into the car, more forcefully than the others which surprised both of them.

As much as he sympathised for both souls, Tom had one job and that was securing the President's safety. "By getting out of the car, you will endanger your life-" he tried to reason with him but that too was lost on Fitz.

"I don't care" he growled and met his gaze with the blazing blue, crystallised with silent tears that were yet to be fall.

"And hers" Tom added, satisfied when the fire dissipated and his leader then fell down onto the seat in despair. "The assassin may still be out there"

"Then you find him" Fitz spat venomously, infuriated with how he was given so much power but it did nothing. There was nothing he could do but get revenge. Not justice – revenge. Just the reminder of the person that had tried to take her away burned within him. He wanted to find whoever had done this and end their lives. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a quick death. No, he would draw out the torture and ignore how they begged for their lives or spoke of redemption.

"You find that son of a bitch and bring him to me" he growled as the rage intensified.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he looked up at his guard. "After I make sure Olivia is safe" he vowed with a meaningful expression.

"Yes" Fitz hastily nodded, now reprimanded himself for having his focus shifted. Olivia was the main priority and he had been distracted. How could he not think about the one who had caused all this? They would suffer and if Olivia d-

No, he couldn't think like that.

She would be okay - she had to be. She couldn't just leave him behind.

Tom met his exhausted eyes again. "I'll make sure she's okay" he promised and Fitz wavered. He wanted to be there for her, not allow other people to "You can trust me" Tom added but he already did. He had countlessly proven himself to be loyal to the President and they frequently found themselves simply talking like they were friends. If Fitz could trust anyone with something as important as this, he knew it would be Tom.

"Go!" Fitz ordered, hating the thought of her being left alone on the cold ground. "Now!" he shouted, though Tom had already left.

The door was slammed closed behind him and he sighed in despair. His back hitting the chair again and when breaking through the memories awaiting behind closed lids, he locked onto the presidential seal on the partition.

He was haunted with the sound of the loud three shots ringing in his ears. His mind was plagued with the memories of how her smile falling as she grew horror stricken. Wide pleading eyes locked onto his as he watched the light dull to nothing. Her gasp; broken and anguished was now replayed.

Even if justice was enacted, how would he face his? There was no hell that could make up for everything that he done

It was supposed to be him. They were coming for him.

Now, she had to pay the price for him…

A frustrated sob broke through his trembling form as he dropped his head into his quivering hands. Only he soon pulled back when feeling the dampness on his forehead, only to be reminded of the blood on his hands.

H-her blood…

Wild bewildered eyes searched the space around him and he snatched three of the bottled waters. His trembling hands fought to fumble with the cap. Several failed attempts had him gritting an aggravated groan. He then brought the bottle up to his teeth and angrily ripped it off, not caring as the water recklessly splashed onto his clothes.

He hastily began to pour it onto his stained hands and try to wash off the blood but the images had him crying out his anguish. Heavy breaths were hissed through his clenched teeth as he continued to roughly claw at his skin.

They seemed clean but he knew they weren't.

Once the bottle was empty, he growled and carelessly flung it as he collapsed back onto the chair, not knowing what he could do.

He had two guards driving, more than twenty trailing behind him but he had never felt more vulnerable than that moment. It was his fault and he couldn't even help her…

**A/N: Heavy… What did you think of the update? What about Fitz? Any love for the beloved Tom? How did I do with the third person POV? Rewrote the first one too. **

**THANKS a bunch for the reviews. So excited that you're loving this fanfic. Please leave a review as they motivate the story.**

**P.S; Thoughts on the banner? All thanks to my beta and my partner in crime – twerri02. Wouldn't have this if it weren't for her. She was the one who suggested adding Tom and the amazing description, is all her as is the song suggestion. Check out Haunted – Beyoncé. We both love the song and hope you do too. **


	3. Hope To Grace The Dawn

**HOPE TO GRACE THE DAWN**

**A/N: Thank you all SO SO much for your reviews. They were the highlight of my crappy week and I loved them. Enjoy this chappie. **

For ten excoriatingly long minutes, the president had stood outside the large glass automatic doors of the A&E. Several patients and members of the staff of the hospital would look onto him, either perplexed or intrigued. Seeing their leader in such a dejected state was disconcerting.

His blue and white tie discarded, left in the backseat of the black Mercedes when it became too hard to breath. The first three buttons of his shirt left undone as he forced heavy breaths to tremble through a burdened chest. His light mahogany locks dishevelled after frequently running his fingers through the perturbed tresses. He wore out his Italian leather shoes when frenziedly pacing up and down by the parking lot.

In his trembling hand, his fingers were tightly wrapped around the small American flag pin. He never took it off but when he was knocked down, it had fallen off. Now it was grasped sternly in his hand, almost like it was his last lifeline.

A priceless gift that had belonged to 34th President that only Olivia would have understood how much it would mean to him. It was something so small, yet so heavy as it held all the memories he had left of Olivia and as minute as the small piece of painted metal was, it gave him the greatest hope. Having the cold silver digging into his palm was enough to keep him from breaking apart.

It also didn't hurt to have Cyrus beside him. He had arrived only a few minutes after him. After demanding a report from a certified doctor that assured the frenzied Chief of Staff, he was soon appeased with the president's health.

"They should be here right now" Fitz murmured, finally feeling the tightening in his muscles strengthen as the tension grew.

Cyrus stepped closer to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "They will be" he replied and then withdrew to run a frustrated hand over his fatigued features. His eyes were reddened with exhaustion and fear. Regardless of the conflict that he carried in regards to the stubborn protégé that was Olivia Pope, Cyrus couldn't help but fear an impending time when he would be grieving over one of the few close friends. Worse, he knew that the President wouldn't be able to handle this.

He had caught sight of her crashing onto the ground and when he tried to go to her, the secret service was already whisking him away. All through the entire ride to the hospital, he was haunted with flashing images of how three bullets had been fired into his friend's body. The blood seeping on the cobblestone as she lay there lifeless and unmoving.

The memories continued to plague him but thankfully, he was distracted by the shrill ringtone of his phone. He had already spoken to a worried James but attempted to assure him. As we speak, the quirky worrisome journalist would most likely be racing through Connecticut Avenue so he would arrive at the Hospital.

Fitz had been broken from the spell momentarily, just for a split second to look up at the sound of the phone ringing, before whipping around to face the parking lot again. He no longer paid attention as Cyrus responded to the loud hysterical screams on the other line.

All he could do was look out at the ambulances that streamed in. Occasionally, he would jump and crane his head towards the doors being opened, only to be disappointed when she wasn't there. Then his guilt would reel at the sight of more wounded citizens, before reminiscent pieces of Olivia returned and he was consumed with terror.

His bodyguards had grown restless from trying to get him to go back to the White House. The majority had then occupied themselves with blocking the reporter's path but Hal remained. Even, he couldn't help but look onto his distraught commander-in-chief with sympathy.

"Mr. President"

He snapped his head up towards Cyrus who was holding the phone in a tight grip.

"What?" Fitz questioned while his graven eyes anxiously darted between the phone and his panic-stricken expression. Was it Olivia? Did something happen?

"Mellie-"

Fitz stumbled back with his free hand clutching his chest. His eyes now squeezed tightly shut as he groaned in frustration and contrition. "Oh Mellie" he grinded his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair again. Him and Mellie had their share of ups and downs but he would never wish such a demise. Plus, they had been friends once. "Is she – I-Is she…?"

"She's fine" Cyrus hastily murmured, not wanting to heighten his stormy turmoil further.

Fitz nodded in gratitude with the silver lining. "Good…" he murmured and fell back onto the wall with his head bowed and his eyes closed.

Cyrus took the opportunity of seeing him linger into peace, so he could approach him. "Sir, I understand your worry for Olivia, believe me I do" he exhaled heavily and waited until Fitz blinked up to him. "…but it may be in your political interest to go back to your pregnant wife" he reminded him and cleared his throat.

"You said she was fine" he shot up worriedly.

He nodded with furrowed eyebrows. "She is" Cyrus vowed and slowly elaborated. "I can stay behind and make sure that she's fine. Any orders you give me, I will make sure that they're seen through so you won't have to do a-"

"What makes you think I give a damn about my political interest when Olivia-" he snapped, the words failing him at the distracting sight of the familiar number plate on the black Mercedes. Leaving Cyrus' side, he immediately rushed towards the car, watching as Tom's door was opened and he jumped out, carefully cradling the fragile comatose form draped in white. "Olivia" Fitz breathed shakily, suddenly fearful of even touching her.

"Can I get a doctor out here?" Cyrus bellowed.

Soon enough a flurry of nurses and doctors were brought out, reeling out a stretcher where Tom gently laid Olivia onto the black gurney.

Fitz finally found the courage, the world blurred around him as he reached over and tentatively brushed the dark locks away from her face. He froze when realising that even her hair was caked in blood and then noticed the large gash on the side of her head and down her cheek.

Instantly, he withdrew his fingers and froze momentarily as the doctors wheeled her away from him. After another beat of silence, he tried to piece himself together and raced after them, only to be stopped by Cyrus. "But the First Lady-" he argued

"Is not what I'm thinking about right now"

With that, he was running after them again but his steps slowed when he stepped on the large pool of blood. The think scarlet staining the white tiles and a trembling gasp left him as he pulled his foot back, only to leave a bloodied footprint.

Blood…

Drawing his gaze up, he looked at the inked white hem which was what was leaving drops of blood onto the floor. Drip… drip…drip… Gallingly slow and horrifying but he couldn't look away. His fingers tightened around the pin that the edges were probably piercing into his skin. Only he soon welcomed the distraction of the doctors finally doing their job.

"Mr. Presiden-" one of the doctors approached him but he stepped back, darkened eyes still fixated on Olivia.

He shook his head defiantly. "Just help her. Please" he begged, still refusing to look away from her. He watched in agony, living his hell as he watched different contraptions being manoeuvred towards her. More doctors arrived and began to order the nurses.

"She's losing a lot of blood" one of them stated and a sharp intake of breath was taken. "We have to prep her for surgery" the young female doctor suggested and they all began to share murmurs of agreement.

Cyrus could tell that at that moment, his president was losing his mind and decided to interfere again. "Sir you need to change. I can take-"

"I'm not going anywhere" he gritted through his teeth and watched numbly as a cleaner began to mop up Olivia's blood. His eyes then helplessly trailed after the doctors rushing Olivia away from him. He chased after them but a hand was placed onto his chest before he closed in.

He looked down at the doctor who sympathised but knew she still needed to follow the rules. "You can't go past those doors" she argued shakily. However, after one look at his firm eyes and stern expression, the doctor knew that even she couldn't stop him.

"I'm not going anywhere" he repeated the promise and confirmed it with the tightening squeeze around the pin. Hope.

**A/N: What did you think of this one? Cyrus? Broken Fitz? **

**Thank you all again for the reviews. Love to write for you and love reading your reviews. Leave more and let me know what you think. Next chapter may include a few gladiators.**


	4. Gladiators In Suits

**GLADIATORS IN SUITS**

**Ross Copperman - Holding On And Letting Go**

_**It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't**_  
_**It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed**_  
_**Some prayers find an answer**_  
_**Some prayers never know**_  
_**We're holding on and letting go**_

**A/N: Hope you had a great holiday. I thank you all for the love you have for the story. **

"I'm looking for Olivia. Olivia Pope"

At the sound of the voice, Fitz snapped his head up from his hands and whipped his tired gaze towards the four frantic figures. He could easily identify the sharply dressed man in the coal black suit with his tie left undone. However, he had to blink rapidly through the heavy slumber to ensure his recognition of the shorter and more frenzied man beside Harrison. Slowly, he began to remember him – well he could remember a dirtier, hairier and more unkempt man.

Olivia Pope had a knack of fixing things but apparently makeovers were her specialities too.

At the thought, he was broken from the trance when the somewhat familiar redhead addressed him. "Mr. President" Abby gasped and warily eyed her colleagues.

"Should I bow?" Quinn nervously asked and bit down on her lip.

Before Fitz could say anything, he was up on his feet and roughly shoved onto the wall. "Where is she?" Huck asked in a sharp yet rasped tone.

Several agents began to flood them and pry Huck away but their commander in chief waved them away. They weren't necessary as Harrison found the words to appease Huck, who suddenly sighed and dejectedly released Fitz' collar.

"She's been taken into surgery" he finally revealed, dropping his head to avoid the frightened stares trained onto him. Seeing their fear would only heighten his and wire his thoughts back into a hysterical panic. He had only just gotten a grip onto himself and the bombarding questions that followed didn't help.

"Is she okay?"

"What are the police saying?"

"Forget that, what are the doctors saying?"

"Do you know where she was shot?"

After a lengthy silence, exhausted bloodshot eyes were languidly brought up to address the awaiting pairs.

"Her spine?" Huck urged, losing his patience and probably his sanity too.

Upon realising that he couldn't escape, his barriers fell and the burden weighed down his shoulders. "I don't know" he rasped, shaking his head lowly.

"Her ribs? Her heart?"

When nothing was said, Huck ignored the surrounding secret service agent and took another step towards Fitz. His hands curled into readied fists as he menacingly growled. "Do you know anything?"

Before he could even consider making another attack, Tom decided to ignore given orders and shield the President. A dangerous glint playing in the pebbled emerald green, reminding Huck of his place.

"Let's go get some coffee. Decaf" Harrison found the courage to place a comforting hand on the former black ops agent.

Huck kept his stormy glare fixated on the double doors in the far end. "I'm not leaving" he argued.

"Huck" Quinn tried and placed a hand onto his arm. Somehow this was what it took for Huck to realise the danger he was putting himself in as he slowly nodded. Both then stumbled their way towards the hospital cafeteria. Harrison following after them after clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.

With their absence, Fitz fell back onto the wall and fight against the pressure of being pushed down. Thankfully he was distracted with Abby's approach. She stood beside him and when he pried one eye open, she waved the small white bag. Her usual sarcastic smirk was replaced with a grim farced smile. The mischievous glaze now gone as it was whitewashed with her trepidation.

"I brought her some clothes" she gestured towards the bags in her hand.

Small talk wasn't exactly the secret service's strong suit so he pleasantly welcomed Abby's attempts.

Abby forced another smile. "She'll want to change and get right back to work"

"Not if I have something to do with it" Fitz replied but he was only half-joking.

She turned to him and tried to ignore his creased brow and dishevelled state. "With all due respect Mr President and please don't take this the wrong way, when I say that I don't think even you can stop Olivia Pope"

Finally he cracked a smile. "She's a force to be reckoned with" he agreed and suddenly the memories of his love grew bittersweet. As hard as he tried to think about the good, they all ended up being woven into the past two disastrous hours.

"She's going to be okay" Abby said, noticing the shift in his mood. She even found the pressured humanity within her to offer a comforting squeeze on his arm.

Nothing more was said.

Nothing more needed to be said.

Everyone in the office had been susceptible to the relationship. Like the others, Abby wanted to question Olivia and demand to know why and how she could do something like that. As sordid as the situation was, even she couldn't deny the pleasure of knowing that Olivia wasn't perfect. However, once Abby looked at the burning man that was supposed to be the leader of the free world, she knew that whatever they shared was more than some fling. Still, Abby knew the rules – no questions or judgements. They weren't supposed to be friends. They were supposed to be colleagues…partners…gladiators.

Regardless, none of them could ignore how a family had unintentionally been bonded. What they felt for Olivia Pope was greater than respect. It was love and now, their leader and gladiator as fighting for her life and there was a chance she wouldn't make it.

Nothing scared Abby more.

**A/N: Gladiators made an appearance. How did I do?**

**Next chapter will be up very soon.**


	5. All Roads

**ALL ROADS**

**Seether - Broken**

_**I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away  
I keep your photograph, I know it serves me well  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain**_

**A/N: Thank you all for the amazing reviews. Keep this story going so thanks.**

All Fitz saw was a white coat and that was enough for him to push up from the wall and run towards the doctor. Only his steps stumbled at the sight of the red blood staining the white cotton. "Mr. Presid-"

"How is she?" Fitz interrupted, pulling away the snapping sound of latex gloves being removed.

"Thankfully, the greatest threat was tetraplegia but we were able to avoid that. Also there was no internal bleeding and she's stable."

Fitz sighed in relief at finally being given some information. The idea of Olivia not being able to move or do anything for herself was unbearable but thinking that she might not even come back at all was… unimaginable. Now, he finally had some answers – answers that not only prolonged the hope, but heightened it.

However, despite her happiness, Abby noticed how shaken the doctor was "The bad news?" she pushed but he couldn't draw his attention away from the President.

"Sir she took on three bullets. One of which created a great risk of cerebral contusion"

Each word hit Fitz like a ton of bricks and it grew harder to keep standing. The only thing grounding him was the small piece of hard metal digging into his palm.

"In English?" Abby persisted, aggravated with how she was being ignored.

Finally he noted her impatience and sighed when meeting her gaze. "Right now, she's lucky to be alive but we have to prepare ourselves of the fact that she may not be the same person" he finalised.

"But she'll wake up" Fitz numbly stated, not allowing himself to think of the worst. He couldn't afford to. "Can I see her?" he pleaded.

The doctor seemed relieved with not having being assaulted again. "As we speak, the nurse is preparing a private room, as you requested" he revealed and was smart en0ugh to take note of the president's tremors. "I can take you if you'd like"

Fitz nodded eagerly and made a move to follow but paused, turning to his left. "I should wait for the rest" Abby offered the bag, understanding that he needed a few minutes to be alone with her. As much as she wanted to be there, knowing that Olivia would pull through would be enough. For now.

When he accepted the bag, Fitz hastily followed the doctor and felt his breath caught at the sight of the stretcher being wheeled into a room. Still, he continued down the hall, oblivious to the agents bounding at his heels.

It was when he got to the doorway that his steps faltered but Tom steadied him. He gave him an encouraging nod, causing him to inch further into the room. Though, Fitz couldn't find it in himself to breathe as he slowly stepped into the room. His eyes fixated onto the frail body but all he could focus on were the tubes and the machines and the incessant beeping.

Once the nurse was finished checking her IV, she straightened up and her eyes widened at the stilled form pressed onto the wall. "She's going to be okay" she whispered comfortingly and regarded him with the familiar pitiful eyes.

He seemed to look through her, only focused on Olivia. When this dawned onto her, she shot Tom a wary glance before making a move to leave.

However as she reached the doorway, a hand whipped out to grip her arm. Broken silver glints crackled through a frighteningly frosted blue. "Could you switch on the TV? Something with the news" he grated but still didn't turn to her. "She likes it in the background" he numbed and lazily peeled his fingers away from her, allowing her to complete the given task.

Once she was done, she tittered out of the room. Fitz took the chance to approach Olivia but paused, dawning onto the fixated eyes. He craned his head towards Tom and was grateful to not have to say anything

He didn't even make it to the armchair because his knees gave in beneath him and he crashed onto his knees before her. A crackled sob racked his chest

Any make up that she unnecessarily had worn had been wiped away. This only exposed her chapped lips that were slanted and slightly parted, though no breaths left her. Her chest weakly rose and fell with her dulling heartbeat, humming against the thin white hospital gown. Her hair was damp and as expected the dark locks had begun to curl. He understood that they had kindly washed the blood that had matted her tresses. Her feet released with the uncomfortable confinements of high heels and were now left bare; finely shaped and smooth skinned.

Fitz was content because he knew how much she preferred being barefoot. He was reeling with the memories of having her warm body pressed against his; her smooth legs tangled with his and teasingly sliding up his. She always did know how to push her buttons. Then again, there was nothing she could do that wouldn't affect him.

Right now, he was too scared to feel anything. He wanted – no, he needed the release of tears but simply couldn't.

Suddenly the numbness was overwhelming and he had to feel something. As a result, he found his hands frantically seeking out hers. Bittersweet relief breathed through at the touch.

He entwined their fingers, sighing deeply at the feel of her skin – as cold as it was. Wanting to bring her some warmth, he brought their hands up to his fevered lips and kissed hers sweetly. "I'm here" he murmured against her skin. "I'm here" he repeated the promise and peeked up, foolishly hoping that he could hear him.

"Mr. President"

At the sound of the voice and the click of a closed door, he found the fight leave him. Strength failed him and he knew he didn't have it in him to start another argument. "Cyrus, I don't want to hear about Foreign Policy or Mellie's tantrums or headlines or-"

"Thought you might want a change of clothes" he interjected and Fitz looked up. He watched as the frazzled Chief of Staff stepped forward with another object in his hands. "And some scotch" he lifted the peace offering with a soft smile.

Fitz could only reply with a grateful nod before turning back to Olivia.

"I'm here too Liv" Cyrus whispered and sat on the other chair.

Both men flanked her sides, relinquishing their differences as they spent the night in a comfortable silence of understanding. Both ignoring the impending question hanging stiffly in the withering air.

**A/N:Any love for Cyrus? Thoughts on Fitz? Is he losing it? Love for our favourite secret service agent?**

**More visitors coming up.**


End file.
